He placed his arm over her shoulder as they walked in the direction she led him.
“Do you want to use the bathroom before you lie back down?”
“Yes.”
She opened the door next to the open bedroom door, leading him inside after she flicked on the light switch.
“Open the door when you finish,” Sutton said, leaving the bathroom and closing the door behind her.
Tate used the toilet then went to the bathroom sink. The man reflected in the mirror wondered how Sutton didn’t believe him capable of killing Lyle. His hair was plastered to his head, and he had a drugged-out look in his eyes. He looked like a serial killer.
He ran the water, making it as cold as he could. Using his hand, he splashed water onto his face and hair. When he finished, he opened the door to find Sutton waiting patiently.
He let her help him into the bedroom where he dropped onto the mattress, feeling too weak to bend over and take off his boots. As Sutton crouched down in front of him, doing it for him, Tate felt his dick stirring again.
She glanced up, catching him staring at her.
“Do you need some help to get out of your jeans?”
He was tempted to ask for her help, but decided his dick wouldn’t be able to handle her hands anywhere near his belt buckle.
“I can do it.”
Sutton nodded. Going to the boxes stacked against the wall, she rummaged through the one on top, pulling a pair of pajama pants and top from inside. She handed them to him.
“They might be a little short, but they should fit well enough.”
“I usually sleep naked,” he taunted to see what kind of reaction he would get.
“Go for it, but if the state police come to arrest your ass, don’t blame me if they carry you out of here with your dick flapping.”
Unable to help himself, he laughed then held his ribs from the pain it caused.
“You’ve become sassy. At one time, you would have turned bright red and taken off.”
“I’m not seventeen anymore.”
“No, you’re not,” he agreed, his eyes going to her full breasts and curvy hips.
She ignored his appreciative gaze. “Do you need anything else? If not, I’m going to bed.”
“You ever regret dumping me for Cash?” Tate didn’t know why the question came out of his mouth other than it had been one he wanted answered.
“Really?” She stared down at him angrily. “You want to ask that at three in the morning?”
“Never mind. I don’t give a fuck about the answer, anyway.” He wasn’t about to let her think it had bugged him over the years.
“If you didn’t want to know, then why ask? No, I never regretted Cash. What’s wrong, Tate? Does it burn your Porter pride that you weren’t the one who broke up with me?”
“You were replaced”—he snapped his fingers—“like that.”
Her mouth gave a curl of contempt. “Do you honestly think I didn’t know that? The Monday after prom, half a dozen of my friends told me by the end of first period that you spent the night with Lisa in the motel room you had reserved for us.”
He stiffened as he sat on the side of the bed. For a split-second, the controlled mask she kept on her face had dropped, and her agony and humiliation were revealed before being concealed once again by her nonchalance.
“Sutton…”
“Forget it. It didn’t matter then, and it doesn’t now.” She went out the door, leaving him alone, heading into the bedroom across the hall.
He wanted to go after her; instead, he changed into the pajamas she had given him then lay down on the bed after turning off the bedside lamp.
He stared up at the ceiling as the hurt she had shown played over and over in his mind. Had she regretted breaking up with him? Had it been a ploy to get him jealous?
Tate didn’t even know why it mattered after all this time. Then again, the sexual chemistry was still there between them, so maybe he wanted a taste of what he had been denied back then. Maybe he wanted to even the score and be the one to dump her this time.
Tate closed his eyes, the pain pill finally making him drowsy enough to ignore the pain. He wouldn’t be able to leave for the next few days. If he was lucky, he would finally be able to put his past with Sutton to rest. He wasn’t a kid anymore, and neither was she. Sutton was a widow. She probably had a couple of lovers before she married, and after the death of her husband. They both were adults, and if he decided he wanted to get her out of his system, there was nothing to stop him, not even Sutton.
Chapter 11
Sutton stretched, yawning, feeling as if she hadn’t slept at all. She looked at the clock on her bedside table.